


Spark&Teeth

by ShyAudacity



Series: Spark&Teeth [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Scott, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Angst, BAMF Derek Hale, BAMF Lydia Martin, BAMF Stiles, Camden is an ass, Camden is like Isaac only shorter and no curls, Dead Allison, Dead Isaac, Dead Sheriff, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Distopian AU, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Healer Stiles, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Minor mentions of Hale Family, Mostly mute Scott, Murder, No Supernatural Creatures Allowed AU, Non-Graphic Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Protective Derek, Set whenever, Slow Build, Someone commits suicide but not technically, Spark Stiles, Stiles Allison Lydia and Scott are the only ones that originally know each other, Stiles gets Pistol Whipped, Survivor Guilt, Swearing, physical fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-16 03:25:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5811859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyAudacity/pseuds/ShyAudacity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I am not my sister,” Argent pleaded. “And I gave up on hunting a long time ago. Now please, just say you’ll help him.” </p>
<p>Derek stepped closer, and took a good look at the kid Argent was holding up. He looked so young, Derek couldn’t hardly remember what it felt like to be that age. By the time he was twenty, he had already lost most of his friends and family. He didn’t want that for whoever this kid was. </p>
<p>“Bring him inside, I’ll go find Lydia and see what she can do to help him.”</p>
<p>“But Derek-.”</p>
<p>“I said bring him in, and that’s not an option, it’s an order.” Derek said sternly. Then, he stalked off to find Lydia, hopeful that there was something that she could do to save this kid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [here at the end of all things](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1647941) by [coffeeinallcaps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeinallcaps/pseuds/coffeeinallcaps). 



> First off, the HUGEST Thanks to my friend Lexie for Beta-ing this for me. Second, i've been working on this for a little while so I hope y'all like it, I'm really happy with where it's going. I really hope you like it!

The world believed that they were monsters. Multiple series of different monsters that would maim and kill anyone who got in their way. Of course, all of the supernatural creatures knew that they weren’t actually dangerous unless they chose to be, but the people in their communities didn’t care. A notice was sent throughout all of California. All supernatural creatures had four weeks to relocate before every last one of them would be hunted down and tortured until their body gave up to the grave.

Derek Hale was twenty-two years old when this happened. He had already lost enough people in his life time because of hunters, and he was going to try his damn hardest not to lose anyone else. So, he left his hometown of Beacon Hills with his best friend and his best friend’s younger brother. Camden wasn’t supernatural, but his little brother Isaac was a werewolf like Derek. Along the way they met a kid who called himself Boyd, and he had more muscle than he knew what to do with. He was a wolf, as well. Then they all met a red haired, green eyed genius named Lydia; a banshee.

Together, the five of them hitchhiked north through California until they reached the Oregon border. At which point, Derek got into contact with Alan Deaton, a veterinarian who was a friend of Derek’s family. Deaton helped the young group of five find shelter at an old abandoned hotel, far away from any towns or hunters. Luckily for them, they could hunt if they needed to. Just as well, Deaton promised to help them with any supplies that they needed. All of them agreed to put a mountain ash around the perimeter of their territory. That way they could be sure that no one could get in or out without them noticing. It was their best bet at staying safe. 

Over time, more supernatural creatures and people came along, asking for somewhere to hide from hunters. More often than not, Derek would let them in. They would stay for a little while, but never any longer than a month it seemed. Although, if a person became feral, Derek and the others would do their best to try and bring them back to reality. They hadn’t had very positive results from that.

Derek is twenty-five now, and he has been running this makeshift camp with some help from Deaton.  He feels pretty lucky, he has managed to stay alive all this time and he hasn’t lost near as many people as he thought he would’ve, though he still wishes that they hadn’t lost anyone at all. Just as well, he prides himself on standing guard at the border every day. Somedays he just wishes he hadn’t volunteered to do the morning shift.

“Remind me again why I have to get up at the ass crack of dawn to do this?” Camden asked from his post.

“Because it’s your turn in rotation, and I told you to.” Derek replied with a smirk.

“Isn’t that abusing your powers as Alpha?”

Derek has been an alpha since right before he had to relocate. He had killed his only uncle in order to save someone else from getting hurt. Derek would do it again just so he would never have to deal with his uncle’s sociopathic personality ever again. Just as well, keeping innocent people was a top priority on his list

“I’m not abusing my power, I’m enforcing it.”

“Was that a joke? Did Derek Hale actually crack a _joke_ for once in his life?”

“Shut up Lahey.” Just as the words left Derek’s mouth, he heard the unmistakable sound of a groan and the ruffling of leaves. Appearing from the edge of the forest, two men were coming towards the border, the obviously older one pulling the younger one along. The younger one can’t be any older than twenty, but looks nearly dead as far as Derek can tell. His head hangs forward limply while his feet drag behind him, a dark red stain growing just above where the older man was holding him up.

One of his arms is slung over the man’s shoulder, while another arm is around his waist. The older man has a bow and a quiver of arrows around one shoulder, as well as a holster around his waist. They get about five feet from the border before the man stops and tries to catch his breath.

“This kid needs help.” He breathes out.

“I can see that,” Derek says. “But we don’t just let anybody in here. So give me one good reason that I should let in.”

“Because I’m the closest thing this kid has to a family right now, and I didn’t do this to him. Please tell me you’ll help him.”

“What’s your name?”

“Chris Argent.” He mumbles.

“Argent?” Camden chimed in with a laugh. “You must be crazy. You really think we’re going to let a hunter walk in here like it’s nothing.”

“I’m not like my family.”

“Really, is that so? Because the last time I checked, your sister set fire to a house with a family trapped inside. A family that had both humans and werewolves. Your sister killed innocent people.”

“Cam-.” Derek tried.

“I am _not_ my sister,” Argent pleaded. “And I gave up on hunting a long time ago. Now please, just say you’ll help him.”

Derek stepped closer, and took a good look at the kid Argent was holding up. He looked so young, Derek couldn’t hardly remember what it felt like to be that age. By the time he was twenty, he had already lost most of his friends and family. He didn’t want that for whoever this kid was.

“Bring him inside, I’ll go find Lydia and see what she can do to help him.”

“But Derek-.”

“I said bring him in, and that’s not an option, it’s an order.” Derek said sternly. Then, he stalked off to find Lydia, hopeful that there was something that she could do to save this kid.

                                                                 *******************************************************************  

They brought him into an empty room on the first floor of the hotel. Lydia waltzed in and gave the boy a once over. Deaton had taught her a lot about medicine and how fix different injuries, luckily for her she was a quick learner. Lydia knew what to look for, what was good and what was bad, as well as how to fix it. Derek and Argent waited outside while she tried to patch him up, both of them hoping to hear good news. She emerged an hour later, slightly flustered and a line of dirt and blood underneath her finger nails.

“He’s dehydrated and malnourished, but he should be fine.” She said. “I stitched up his side and tried to clean him up the best that I could, how did this happen?”

“I’m not sure.” Argent told her. “I didn’t realize that he was hurt until he passed out. At that point I figured it was too late. Can I go in there?”

“Go ahead. He’s still unconscious, but he should wake up before long.” Lydia said before she let him in.

Derek followed Argent into the room. The curtains had been pulled back and the light from the early morning was breaking through. He’d been stripped of his shirt, so he laid on his back, shirtless on top of the stained covers. A stark white bandage with stains of red stood out on his ribcage against his already pale skin. One arm was crossed over his chest, as if it would somehow protect him in his sleep.

 _Poor kid,_ Derek thought to himself, _he probably doesn’t even know what he’s gotten himself into._

Then he notices the tattoos. They litter his arms like a tiny art gallery. He sees the foreign lettering that lines the inside of the kids arms. It looks like some strange form of code, and a very detailed one at that. He doesn’t know what all of it means, but Derek’s sure that he’ll find out sooner or later.

“You’re a lucky guy.” He says to Argent.

“What makes you say that?”

“I say that because I volunteered to stand guard at the border this morning. I know for a fact that Camden wouldn’t have let you in if your only argument was that you’re a retired hunter, much less an Argent. So you’re very lucky.” Derek said, then stalked out of the room to where Lydia was standing, watching Chris as he hovered over the teenager.

“I went to high school with him.” She said quietly.

“You did?”

She nodded. “His father was the Sheriff in our town, so everyone knew him. My best friend and his best friend dated for a little while before everything got bad, so we were around each other all the time. It’s so bizarre to see him here… I didn’t think that I would see anyone else from home again. I mean I knew that Allison’s father was a hunter, but I-.”

A cry of pain from inside the room cuts Lydia off. Derek and Lydia burst into the room to see the teen, unconsciously gasping for air with his back arched off the bed. Argent had his hands on his shoulders, attempting to hold him down, but it was no use.

“Stiles? Stiles, it’s Argent. You’re okay, Stiles, we’re somewhere safe.”

Derek hears Lydia gasp from next to him, and he immediately feels the need to help him. Without giving it a second thought, Derek pushed Argent out of the way and climbed on top of the bed. He straddled ‘Stiles’ and used his knees to hold his arms against the bed. Derek placed a firm hand in the center of the teen’s chest, then watched as black lines curled up his arm. He waited until Stiles’ body went slack against the bed before removing his hand. Derek got up, climbed off of the bed, and looked up.

“What did you do to him?” Argent asks.          

“I took some of his pain away.”

“I didn’t know that werewolves could do that.”

Derek nods then looks at Lydia, he has never seen her look so terrified and confused at the same time.

“Lydia,” he says. “Why don’t you go show Mr. Argent around? I’m sure the walk would do both of you some good. I’ll stay here with… Stiles until he wakes up.”

Lydia nods and leads Argent away from the room. Derek looked back down a Stiles. For someone of his stature he looked impossibly small. He sits down in a dusty chair next to the bed, and tries to think of what he’s going to say once Stiles actually wakes up.

                                                                                                                    ***********************

Its late in the afternoon, the sun having just begun to set when Stiles finally comes to, and it’s obvious that he’s got a fever by the way his body is shaking and covered in a layer of sweat. He manages to sit himself up before Derek has a chance to stop him.  

“You probably shouldn’t do that. You might rip your stitches out.” Derek says warily.

Stiles looked up at him with glassy eyes, looking as though he could faint at any moment. “Who the hell are you?”

“My name is Derek. You’re at a supernatural safe haven, and I’m the one in charge around here. Can you tell me what your name is?”

“Stiles.” He muttered. “I need to leave.” Stiles told him, standing up.

“I can’t let you do that right now. Besides, by the looks of you, you wouldn’t make more than ten feet out that door before you blacked out. So how about you sit down and we can talk.”

“I need to find somebody.”

“Who? Chris Argent? He’s here too. He carried your unconscious body all the way to the border, you know that? You’re lucky that we even let you two in here. Can you tell me how you got hurt? Or what you’re doing walking around with a hunter?”

“I need to talk to him.”

“You can talk to him later.”

“N-no you don’t understand. I have to tell him something.” Stiles tried while also attempting to push past Derek.

Derek is quick to push him back, but Stiles isn’t going down without a fight. He struggles against Derek’s grip for a moment before he loses his footing, and falls back onto the bed. Stiles slowly becomes more and more tired from fighting with Derek.

“You have to let me talk to him, I… I need to apologize.” Stiles says breathing hard, his eyes growing heavy.     

“Apologize for what?”

“His daughter…I killed his daughter.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets slightly worse, and then better. Derek tries to help. Someone new makes an appearance... yeah that's the chapter.

“He’s dangerous, we can’t let him stay here; either one of them.” Camden argues.

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“He just admitted to killing that guy’s daughter, Derek. I’m fairly sure that that constitutes as dangerous. If we let him stay he’s going to hurt somebody.”

“The kid can barely stand up, there’s not a lot that one person can do from lying down. Besides, for all we know, he could be delirious from blood loss.” Derek reasons.

“Yeah, because that makes it any better.”

Derek sighs and runs his hands over his face. They have been in Derek’s room debating this for the last hour. So far they don’t have a decent solution to their problem. “What do you want me to do, Camden? Kick ‘em out? Banish them? They’re humans, we can’t just force them outside the border, they’d breakthrough the mountain ash.”

“Then we find a new way to keep them out. His sister killed your family, are you really just gonna let him walk around here and act like that didn’t happen?”

“You know; I _really_ wish you would stop bringing that up.” Derek says, taking a step towards Camden.

“Fine,” Camden scoffs. “But don’t come crying to me when that lunatic goes ape shit and starts going on a killing spree.” He begins to leave the room.

“We don’t know if he’s a lunatic yet.” Derek calls after him.

“Doesn’t matter, I don’t trust him… and neither should you.” Just as Camden exits, Lydia bursts into Derek’s room in a hurry.

“We have a problem.” She says. “It’s Stiles, he can’t breathe.”  

*                                                                                                                                                       

The panic is evident on Stiles’ face when Derek and Lydia get to him. He’s sitting up, his legs hanging off the edge of the bed. His face is as white as a ghost, every breath is coming out forced and rugged as he sucks air in through his mouth. Derek looks to Argent who is standing off to the side, looking bewildered.

“What the hell did you do?” Derek snarls at him.  

“Nothing, he woke up and it just started. I don’t think he even knows I’m here.”

Derek looks back at Stiles, then springs into action. He kneels in front of Stiles, then places one hand over his mouth and the other on the back of his head. Stiles gives him a bug eyed look and grabs Derek’s arms. From the corner of his eyes, he can see Lydia open her mouth as if to interject and stop him. He continues before she can even speak.

“Don’t fight it, I’m trying to help you.” He says sternly.

After a few minutes, Stiles’ breathing evens out to a steady pace. Derek can hear that his heartrate has settled back into an even rate. Carefully, he removes his hands from Stiles’ body and watches to make sure he won’t spiral back into another fit. Instead, he breathes deeply and nods at Derek.

“You want to tell us what that was?”

“Panic attack.” He says quietly.

“Do you get those often?”

Stiles shakes his head, then looks directly at Derek. “Where am I?”

“That’s a good question,” he replies. “Let me show you.”

*                            

“How long have you been here?”

“Long enough.” Derek replies. He had just finished showing Stiles around when Boyd called everyone in for dinner. Derek had developed a system for rationing out the food, and Boyd prepared it for everyone. Once the small group knew that they’d be staying indefinitely, they converted one of the larger rooms in the hotel into a dining hall.  

“Has anybody come looking for you guys?”

“Nope, but I don’t see why they would, seeing as all supernatural creatures have been practically outlawed. Now, it’s my turn for a question. How did you get roped into working with a Hunter like Argent?”

“That’s kind of a long story.” Stiles mumbles sitting down.

“I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” Derek replies, sitting across from him. “So, out with it.”  

Stiles looks up at Derek, and he sees Lydia watching him from across the room. Immediately he straightens up at the sight of her. Derek turns to follow his gaze.

“Do you know her?”

 “I think so,” Stiles answers, never taking his eyes off Lydia. “I’ll be right back.”

Derek watches as he stands and walks right up to Lydia. Stiles asks her a question that Derek doesn’t catch, and she nods. Then they’re closing the space between them and hugging each other. It’s at that point that Derek looks away. When he turns back, Camden has taken Stiles’ seat.

“You seriously gonna let them stay?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, if I were you, I’d make a decision before somebody else gets hurt.” He remarks before getting up and walking away.

Derek rubs a hand over his face, and sighs. He looks out the window just as the sun goes down behind the trees. He decides that this issue can wait until tomorrow morning.

*                                             

The first thing Derek does when he wakes up is find Stiles and wake him up. Although he is still pale and fever ridden, he complies and follows Derek out to the border. They had been sitting there for almost an hour before Stiles finally spoke up.

“He’s not a bad guy,” he says quietly. “Argent, I mean, he really isn’t a bad guy. I know that his last name automatically makes him sound like a psychopath, but I can assure you he’s harmless.”

“I believe you, but I need to hear that from him. Just as well, he needs to prove it to me. Do you understand that?”

Stiles nods and looks down. Derek continues, “While Lydia was cleaning you up yesterday I noticed the marking on your arms. What are they for?

Stiles rolls up the sleeves on his flannel shirt and shows off his tattoos to Derek. They practically glow in the early morning light.

“They’re runes. They’re supposed to help me channel my inner Mage or something like that. I haven’t been able to get a very good grip on it. They all mean something to me though, so I guess that’s one good thing about all of this.”

Derek turns Stiles’ arm over in his own hand for a moment, admiring the line work. Part of him wants to help this kid learn to control his abilities, another is unsure if he should even trust him. He drops Stiles’ arm and stands up.

“Do yourself a favor, don’t tell anybody about what you can do.”

“Why not?”

 “Just trust me, for now, don’t tell anyone. Believe me it’s for your own good. C’mon, Boyd probably has breakfast ready by now.”

 *                           

At breakfast, Stiles is left to his own defenses. Derek having something to take care of with Boyd, and Lydia and Argent were off trying to decode a page in the beastiary. So he sat all by himself in the dining room, keeping his head down as not to draw attention to himself. Yet, after a few minutes, somebody that he doesn’t recognize sat themselves down in front of him.

Stiles looks up at he’s met with icy blue eyes. “Hi… can I help you with something?”

“What are you doing walking around with a hunter?” Camden asks.

“He’s a _retired_ hunter, and that’s none of your business.”

Camden scoffs. “If you and your friend plan on staying here, then you better make it my business. We clear?”

Stiles’ blood runs cold at the words, so he just nods.

“Good answer. Everyone around here, all of us trust each other, you know? If we didn’t trust each other, then the whole foundation of this camp would fall apart. Just as well, we have to protect each other. Because if we don’t, then bad things start to happen.”

“What kind of bad things?”

 “People die.” He says coldly.

Stiles wants to ask more, but he sees Derek walking towards them from over Camden’s shoulder, a frustrated look on his face. Camden notices this, and just turns and smiles at him.

“Hey, Derek. What’s up?”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Oh nothing, just getting acquainted with our new friend. Making sure that he doesn’t get out of line, or do something drastic that could get somebody hurt. We wouldn’t want that to happen again, now would we, Derek?”

“Last I checked, you were the only one causing harm to people.” Derek bites out. Camden’s devious smile falls from his face. He glares at Derek once, before looking back at Stiles then walking away. Derek kneels in front of Stiles, who looks as though he’s seen a ghost.

“You okay?”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” Stiles mutters. Derek helps him to his feet, then leads him back to his room. Stiles sits on the edge of his bed, still pale and a bead of sweat on his top lip. Derek places a hand on his forehead.

“You have a fever,” he states. “I’m going to go get Lydia, we need to make sure your cut isn’t infected.” He’s halfway out the door when Stiles stops him.

“Has anybody ever died here?” he asks.

Derek turns and looks at him. “Who gave you that idea?”

“Your friend with the creepy smolder. Was he telling the truth?”

Derek sighs, then goes to stand in front of Stiles. “Yeah, someone died here, about a year ago. It was messy and nobody really knows the full story except for Cam.”

“Who was it? That died, I mean.”

“Camden’s brother, Isaac.” Stiles gasps at the words, and looks down. Derek gives him a sad look then turns to leave again.

“Stay here, I’ll go find Lydia.” By the time Derek gets back with Lydia, Stiles is asleep.                 

*

The following days after the run in with Camden, Stiles makes it point not to talk much to anybody. He keeps his head down around others at the camp, and he practically glues himself to Derek’s hip. When Derek is busy, he’ll stick by Argent or Lydia. Derek doesn’t really mind Stiles hanging around him, it’s good to feel needed. Sometimes he just wishes that Stiles didn’t ask so many questions. It’s almost noon and Derek swears that Stiles has asked at least 3 dozen questions since he woke up this morning.

“Stiles I swear to god if you don’t shut up I will rip-.” Derek says, baring his teeth at the younger man.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, just one more question and then I promise to leave you alone for at least an hour.”

Derek sighs, then nods.

“Who’s down there?” He asks, gesturing to the room at the end of the hallway. “You and Boyd go in there a couple of times a day with food and water, but nobody ever comes out. Plus, I heard some weird ass noises coming from over there last night. So who’s in there?”

Derek thinks for a moment before answering. “An alpha.”

“An alpha? If there’s another alpha here, then how come you two aren’t running this place together? Why is it just you? Why do they stay in their room all day?”

“Because he’s mute, he refuses to talk to us. He was nearly feral when he came here. He showed up at the edge of the border one day a couple of months ago. None of us thought that he was going to make, he was delirious for three days.”

“Damn. Did he say anything, when he first showed up?”

“Not anything useful, just something about shooting the Sheriff. Nobody could figure out what he meant.”

Stiles’ expression goes from curious to disbelief. Before Derek can stop him, Stiles is running down the hallway at full speed. Stiles reaches the end of the hallway and throws the door open without a second thought. The room is dark, but he can make out the shape of someone sitting in front of the window. Carefully, he takes a step inside.

“Scott?” The figure perks their head up, but doesn’t turn around. “Scott is that you?”

Scott adjusts his body slightly to look at Stiles. Stiles looks at him and swears that his heart broke a little bit just looking at his best friend.

“Oh my god, Scott, I thought I’d never see you again.” Stiles is about to hug him when Scott stops him.

“You’re not real.” Said Scott in a raspy voice. He stands and backs away from Stiles.

“What? Scott… wh-what are you talking about? Of course I’m real, I’m standing right here. It’s me Stiles, your best friend, remember?”

“They shot the Sheriff… I heard it, t-they shot him. They took him away from Stiles. I-I had to leave, they were going to take me away from Stiles. I left Stiles behind. You, y-you’re not real. I don’t want you here, I want the real Stiles.” 

“I am the real Stiles, Scott. I swear to god it’s me.” He says, his voice cracking. “C’mon Scotty, you’ve got to believe me.”

“Don’t call me that, only Stiles gets to call me that. You’re not real, this isn’t real.” His chest heaved, and he glared at Stiles. Scott’s eyes flared red. “Where is he? What did you do him? What did you do to Stiles?”  

“Scott please, I-.”

Scott growls then lunges for Stiles. Before Scott reach him, Derek grabs by the arm, yanks him out of the dingy room and slams the door. He holds it closed for a minute to make sure that Scott won’t try to escape and tear himself and Stiles to shreds. After a minute, he lets go and turns back to Stiles. Stiles is sitting against the opposite wall. Knees drawn up to his chest, breaths coming out rough and erratic as tears stream down his face. 

Derek drops to his knees in front of him, he grabs his face with his hands. “Hey, hey Stiles look at me. You’re okay, got it? Everything is fine and you’re okay. Just breathe, you need to breathe kid.”

“Scott d-didn’t believe m-me.” He chokes out. “W-why didn’t he believe me?”

“I don’t know… I’m sorry Stiles I don’t know.” Derek says quietly. Unsure of what else to do, he grabs Stiles by the back of the neck and pulls him into a hug. Stiles complies, and holds on for dear life. He cries into Derek’s shoulder until he feels like he can breathe again. When he pulls away, his eyes are red and slightly puffy. He sits back against the wall, and sighs, Derek sits next to him.

“What happened? To Scott I mean.” He asks.

“It’s my fault. All of this… it’s my fault.” His voice cracks. “My Dad knew about Scott and decided it would be best if Scott hid out at our house for a while. Just to be safe, you know? Well, a little while turned into a couple months, then those months turned into a year. Before we knew Scott has been living at our house for almost two and a half years.”

“So what happened?”

“Somebody found out about Scott and went to the police. They showed up at my house one day and… then everything happened so fast.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is looking to have about 6 chapters, maybe 8 at the most. Thanks for reading and have a great day!


	3. Chapter 3

_A normal Saturday at the Stilinski household. It’s mid-morning, which means that Scott and Stiles are barely awake when the doorbell rings. Begrudgingly, Stiles rolls out of bed and goes down stairs to answer the door. When he answers it, the Sheriff from Riverside County is standing on the other side with a few deputies behind him._

_“Can I help you?”_

_“Yes, you can. Can you tell me where Sheriff Stilinski is?” The Riverside Sheriff asked._

_“Dad? Somebody’s here to see you?” he called warily._

_After a moment, Stilinski stepped out into the entry way. He made a confused face. “Is there something that I can help you gentlemen with?”_

_“Yes, Sheriff there is. Did you know that harboring a supernatural creature in your home is a crime? It also just happens to be punishable by death.”_

_As he said that, the deputies behind him let themselves into the house and marched up the stairs._

_“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Stiles exclaimed._

_“Your father has committed a serious crime, son. Now, he’s getting what he deserves.” In one full movement, the Riverside Sheriff removed his gun from its holster and fired two shots right at Stilinski. The bullets struck him the chest and he went down immediately._

_“Dad! NO!” he cried. He dropped to his knees next to his father. “Dad? Dad, stay with me, okay? I’ll fix this, I’m so sorry I promise I’ll fix this.”_

_Stilinski shook his head. “Can’t fix this one…I love you, kiddo.”_

_“No, no don’t say that, you’re not going to die on me. You’re not, you promised, you promised you wouldn’t leave me.”_

_“You’ll be just fine. I know you will.” He says, his eyes growing heavy. Sheriff Stilinski’s eyes drooped shut, his body went limp and his head lulled to the side._

_“Dad… Dad, don’t do this. Please I’m sorry, Dad please.” Stiles cried as he shook his father’s body. His attempts were useless; his father was gone. Stiles sat there and cried, holding onto his father for what felt like hours. At some point, he looked up and realized that everything was quiet. Meaning the cops from Riverside had left and he hadn’t even noticed._

_Upon realizing this, he stood on shaky legs and ran up to his and Scott’s room. He got there only to find an empty room and an open window._

_“Scott?”_

                                  

“They shot my Dad right in front of me.” Stiles said looking at Derek, his eyes still wet from crying. “Who would do something like that?”

Derek shook his head. “I don’t know, Stiles, I’m sorry.”

Stiles bit his lip, then rested his head on Derek’s shoulder. Derek didn’t question it. The two of them continued to sit for a while, neither one of them saying anything. After some time, Derek realized that Stiles had fallen asleep against him. He moved out from under him, careful not to wake him. He picked Stiles up from the floor and carried him back to his room.

After some maneuvering, he was able to get inside. Gently, he placed the twenty-year-old on the bed, then pulled the blanket over him. He couldn’t explain why he felt so compelled to help Stiles. Something inside him just told him it was the right thing to do.

                                              

 

Stiles wakes up later that afternoon. He stumbles out of the room, and looks down the hall. He wonders if something has happened to Scott since he’d last seen him. Because, surely his best friend could never forget who he is… could he?

“Hey,” A voice says. “What are you doing?”

Stiles turns and sees Derek. “Nothing, just thinking… I was thinking that I should tell Argent, about his daughter, you know? If anybody deserves to know, it’s him.”

Derek nods. “That sounds like a good idea. Boyd is almost done with the food, if you want get something to eat.”

“Okay, I think I’ll go to talk to Argent first, I’ve put this off long enough.” He watches Derek leave and then turns back towards Scott’s room. Everything inside of him is screaming at him, telling him that something is obviously wrong here, but he can’t figure out what it is. When he finally turns back around he’s met with the same icy blue eyes as a few days before.

“Stiles,” Camden says in a sly tone. “Let’s go for a little walk.”

                                    

At dinner Derek sits across from Argent. “Did you talk Stiles?”  

“No,” the older man replies. “Was I supposed too?”

“He didn’t come find you?”

“No, I haven’t seen him all day. Why? Did he say something?”

“He told me that he was going to come find you.” Derek looks around for moment. “Lydia, have you seen Stiles?”

She shook her head. “No, I haven’t seen Stiles since this morning. Why? Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.” Derek says, standing up and leaving the dining hall. He and Lydia walk into Stiles’ room only to find it empty. “Where could he be?”  

“Derek what’s going on?” Lydia asks in an anxious tone. “Where’s Stiles?”

Derek is fumbling to come up with a response, when a voice from behind them speaks up.  

“You guys looking for Stiles?” Camden says from the doorway, making Derek and Lydia jump. “I just saw him. He said that he was going to go for a walk. Said he needed time to clear his head or something like that. I wouldn’t worry about it, I’m sure he’ll be back before the night is over.”

After he walks away, Derek looks back to Lydia. She simply gives him a puzzled look. “Don’t look at me. I don’t know anything. If Camden says that Stiles went for a walk, then I believe him.” 

“But-.”

“I’ll tell you what, if he’s not back by sundown then we’ll go out and look for him. Okay?”

Derek nods and follows the Banshee out of Stiles’ room. Derek can’t explain it, but something just doesn’t feel right to him.

                     

It’s well after dark, and Stiles isn’t back yet. Derek is freaking out, to say the least. He won’t say that out loud, though, everyone would laugh at him. After twenty minutes of nervous pacing, he decides he’s going to do something about it. 

“Alright, that’s it, we’re going out to look for Stiles. Lydia, Boyd, go find flashlights and some food and water; we’re going to need it.” Derek quickly walked to his room and started grabbing things he thought Stiles may need. A blanket, an extra t-shirt and the first aid kit Deaton had given him. After getting everything together, Derek turns around to find Boyd and Lydia standing in the doorway to his room, both of them giving him strange looks.

 

“What?”

 

“Are you sure you want to go after Stiles?” Lydia asks. “How do you know that he didn’t run off? Besides, we barely know him. For all we know he could be off telling the authorities where we are.”

 

“Or he could be lost in the woods in the middle of the night. I say we go find him.” he replies, throwing items into a small bag. Throwing the bag over his shoulder, he tries to push past them.  

 

“Derek-.” Boyd tries.

 

“Boyd, I’m not-.”

 

“Derek, stop,” He says, grabbing Derek by the arm. “Do you hear that?”

 

Derek stops, listening closely. He follows Boyd’s finger, and tilts his head towards the ceiling. He just barely hears a strangled sound, followed by series of thumps. Like somebody is trying to break free.

“It’s coming for the second floor.” he says quietly.

 

Boyd nods. “Exactly, nobody sleeps on the second floor.”

  
Derek’s eyes go wide with realization. Dropping the bag, he makes a mad dash for the staircase at the end of the hallway. He takes to the stairs two at a time, not bothering to listen to Lydia shouting for him to slow down. He rounds the corner, and stop in front of the door where the sound is the loudest. Derek tries to open to door but to no avail, it’s locked.

“Hey, hey it’s Derek I’m going to get you out, okay?” he calls. The heartbeat on the other side calms down, and the pounding stops. Taking a step back, he uses all of his force and lands a strong kick next to the door knob. He kicks once again and hears the wood splinter beneath his foot.

When Derek finally pulls away at the split wood, Stiles comes stumbling out and falls into the far wall. His face is pale and his breathing labored. He cradles his right hand to his chest, the skin around his knuckles bloody and bruised.

Lydia is quick to calm him down and start tending to his injured hand. While all Derek can do is standing there and look at Stiles. He wonders to himself who would do this. Then he remembers what Camden said, how Stiles had ‘gone for a walk.’

“Stiles, how did you get locked in the closet?” Derek asks, crouching down to where Stiles was seated.

“He told me not to tell you.” He mumbles.

“Who?”

“Blue eyes with the smolder.”

The anger sky rockets through Derek’s body. Before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s running back downstairs. He makes it back to the dining hall, and his eyes land on Camden. Camden looks up at him almost instantly.

“Oh hey Hale,” he says. “Did you find Stiles?”

He marches into the dining room, throws the table out of his way, and grabs Camden by the front of his shirt. Lifting him out of his chair, and Derek slams him against the nearest wall.

“Jesus, Derek! What the fu-.”

“You did this; I know you did.”

“I don’t know what you’re-.”

“Bullshit!” Derek screams in his face. “You locked Stiles in a closest. All because you don’t trust him, right? Well let me tell you something, Lahey. If you _ever_ , pull something like this again, I swear to God that I will kill you myself. Understood?”  

“Fine… whatever you say, _alpha_.” Camden says, glaring at Derek. He pushes Derek away from him and walks out of the dining hall.

Still seething, Derek whips around and sees Stiles standing in the doorway, who is giving Derek a terrified look. Then he spots Argent, he decides that it’s time that he finally did something.

“You,” he says, pointing a finger at the hunter. “I want you to bring me all of the weapons you had on your person when you and Stiles arrived here.”

“What for?”

“You two want to stay here? Then you’re going to bring them to me without asking anymore questions. Got it?”

Argent nods, then leaves the room. Derek looks to Stiles, then walks over to him.

“Are you okay?”

Stiles shrugs. “Other than the broken hand, yeah I guess I’m okay.”

“Alright, there’s a spare bed in my room. You can stay in there tonight; I want to keep a close eye on you. I need to make Camden’s not going to pull something like this again. Okay?”

Stiles nods. Then, Derek walks away to his room. He starts picking up the things that he had dropped earlier in his haste of finding Stiles. When he looks up, Lydia is sitting on his bed, staring at him.

“I heard what you said to Camden earlier, about killing him if he ever did something like that again. Did you mean it?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

“You want my opinion?” Derek nods. “I think you should have gotten rid of that son of a bitch a long time ago.”

Before he can ask her why, Lydia has already left.

 

That night, to ease Derek’s worry, Stiles sleeps in the bed adjacent to his. Derek, however, doesn’t. Instead, he lies awake for hours, trying to figure out how he could have missed that Camden had turned into a nuisance. He wondered if that ball had dropped ages ago, and he had just simply ignored it.

He trusted Camden, trusted him with his life even. They had been friends forever. It baffled Derek that his best friend had turned out to be such a cynical person. Once, he’s about to roll over and go to sleep, a noise alerts him.

He looks over at where Stiles is sleeping, his right arm curled into his chest. Stiles’ heartrate had risen ever so slightly. Though it’s dark, Derek sees Stiles shift in his sleep, as if he is uncomfortable.  

“Stiles? You awake?” When he receives no response, he rolls over. A few minutes later, Stiles starts mumbling in his sleep.

“M’sorry…didn’t mean to.” He says.

“Stiles?” Derek sits up. He shifts in his sleep again, and the mumbling gets louder.

“Allison I’m sorry, please I didn’t mean to I’m sorry.”

Standing up, Derek hovers over the sleeping man in front of him. He’s unsure of what to do next.

Stiles whimpers. “Please, Alli, don’t go m’sorry.”

At that, Derek has had enough. He reaches out and shakes Stiles’ shoulder. Almost as soon as the contact is made, Stiles awakes with a gasp. He sits upright, and winces when he puts too much pressure on his injured hand. Breathing hard, he looks around.

“Derek?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he replies. “I’m sorry for waking you I ju-.”

“No, no it’s okay, really. I rather be awake than have that nightmare again.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Stiles shakes his head.

“Alright…well, um, goodnight.” Derek turns back to his bed, but Stiles stops him.

“Can I sleep in your bed?” Stiles says in a rush. Derek gives him a confused look. “It’s just… usually after a nightmare I’d go sleep in my Dad’s room, but now I can’t obviously. You know what, never mind, forget I ev-.”

“We can share the bed, Stiles.” Derek interrupts. Stiles looks up at him, and gives him a small, sad smile. Stiles stands and slides into the left side of the bed, Derek laying on the right. They stay back to back, neither one of them say anything. Before either one of them realizes it, they’re both out cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating is so frustrating for me, because my wifi and my computer hate me -_- I hope that y'all liked this chapter. :D


	4. Chapter 4

Derek wakes up the next morning, and for a moment he had forgotten about the previous day’s events. Then he rolled over, looked at Stiles, and the memories came flooding back like an avalanche. He remembered the look on Stiles’ face once he’d realized his best friend was at the camp, and then crying because Scott swore that he wasn’t real. He remembered threatening Camden’s life all because he locked Stiles in a closet.

Derek remembered demanding that Argent give him all his weaponry. All of which included a bow, a set of arrows, a switchblade and some vials filled with wolfsbane. He taken them only to hide it under his bed out of shame and embarrassment. He remembered Stiles talking in his sleep and then sharing a bed with him. It made his head hurt just thinking about it. So he got out of bed, but not before throwing a pillow at Stiles’ head.

“Jackass.” He groaned.

Derek just smirked and shook his head. He stretched, then walked out into the hallway where he was met with a familiar pair of blue eyes.

“Hey.” he said.

“Hey. Boyd told me that you took all of Argent’s shit. Said you took his weaponry and all that.”

Derek nodded.

“Why? That doesn’t automatically make him trustworthy, or any less violent for that matter.”

“I did it because it’s hard to do a lot of damage when you don’t have anything to defend yourself with. Besides, he hasn’t hunted in years, if anything, that makes him far less violent than anyone that else I’ve run into lately.”

Camden scoffed, nodded slightly, then walked away.

Derek watched him leave, then walked out to the border to stand guard. He had not been there more than twenty minutes when the yelling started.

“Derek? Derek!” A voice called. He spun around just as Stiles came barreling into him at full speed, knocking them both to the ground.

“Shit, I’m sorry, you okay?” Stiles coughed.

“Yeah, I’m good.” He replied, pushing himself off the ground. “You sounded panicked, what’s the matter?”

 “Look.” Stiles beamed. He held his hands out.

Derek looked at Stiles’ hands then back up at him. “Okay… I give, what am I looking at?”

“My hand, it healed!”

Derek looked back down at his hands. Turning Stiles’ hands over in his own, his inspected the skin. The cuts on his knuckles had healed, and the bruise gone as if they had never been there to begin with.

“That’s not the only thing, my side healed too.” Stiles said, lifting his shirt. He was right, the cut on his side had faded into a thin, pinkish line.

“How did you do this, Stiles?”

“That’s just it, I don’t even remember doing it. It was like this when I woke up this morning. I didn’t even realize it until Lydia yelled at me for taking off the bandage.”

“You must have done it in your sleep somehow,” Derek told him. “You know what this means don’t you?”

Stiles shook his head.

“It means that we have some work to do.”

 

“Knock me over.” Derek stated. Stiles and himself had walked out into an open area of the forest so Stiles could practice using his spark without drawing too much attention to himself. So far, they hadn’t accomplished a damn thing.

“Okay, I know I said that I’m a Mage or whatever, but that doesn’t mean I can magically make my arms grow. You’re like ten feet away from me, there’s no way I can knock you over.”

“You haven’t even tried it yet. Now, c’mon, push me over.”    

Stiles huffs, and rolls his eyes before shaking out the anxious feeling that had begun to settle in his arms. He clenches and unclenches his hands into a fist. He stands there for a long time, doing nothing, before Derek gets fed up.    

“Are you going to do something or not?” he spits out.

“Hey, look, I’m trying alright? I’m not like you, I don’t know how to turn this on whenever I-.”

“Stiles.”

“What?”

“Your fingers.” Stiles furrowed his brow, then looked at his fingers with a gasp. His fingernails had turned a shiny black color, as if they’d been painted with polish. 

“Holy shit.” He breathed out.

“Knock me over.” Derek says without missing a beat.

Stiles is quick to thrust his arms towards the alpha. He feels a rushing sensation as the air around him is forced in front of him. Within a matter of seconds, Derek is thrown off his feet and flat on his back, the gush of wind having caught him off guard. Stiles walks over to him with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Dude… that was awesome.”

The two of them spend the rest of the morning figuring out all of the different things that Stiles can do with his spark. First he uproots a tree, then he replants it six feet away from its original location. Then, he makes a rain cloud appear just over Derek’s head; Derek didn’t like that one very much.

Yet while watching Stiles try to change the color of the leaves on a tree, Derek felt a sense of fondness well up in his chest. He ignored the feeling, he couldn’t explain it, but he wanted more good things for the poor kid. After a couple of hours, Stiles had decided that he was done.

“Alright, that’s it, it’s break time, I’m exhausted.” He says flopping down onto the grassy floor. “You know, I always thought that I would have magical powers.”

“Oh yeah?” Derek asks, sitting next to him. “Why is that?”

“Well you see, when I was little my mom had this garden. She used to grow all of her own spices, claimed it made them taste better that way. Sometimes I would help her plant them, and my spices always did better than hers. They grew better, lived longer the whole nine yards. Once, she even accused me of tampering with her seeds. I swear I’ve never laughed so hard in entire life.”

Derek chuckles lightly, “What does she do now?”

“Um, nothing she uh… she is no longer suffering from the act of existence.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Eh, don’t be, it’s not your fault. Your turn.”

Derek gives him a confused look. “My turn? My turn for what?”

“Tell me something about yourself, dumbass. It’s a game, just go with it.” He says, waving a hand in Derek’s face. Derek thinks for a minute before speaking.

“Okay, one of my middle names is Abram.”

“What do you mean one of them?”

“I have three middle names.” When Stiles gawks at him, he continues. “Derek Abram Maddox Reed Hale. It’s a family thing, both of my sisters have three middle names as well.”

“Dude, no offense, but your parents are weird.”

Derek scowls at him. “Don’t call me dude, and there are worse things that I could be named. Besides it’s your turn.”

“Nope, that answer was pathetic, try again.” Says defiantly. Derek simply scowls at him again, trying to think of a new answer. His reply comes out of his mouth before he can stop himself from saying it.

“Argent’s sister killed my family.”

Stiles goes pale, then sits straight up. “Wait, what? Are you being serious?”

Derek nods without looking at him. “I was 16 and she was an older woman who had me convinced that she was into me, she got me to think that she loved me. She later talked me into telling her all my families secrets. So I told her about everything, werewolves, mountain ash, emissaries, the whole nine yards. A few days later, I got pulled out of class and was informed that my house had been set on fire with my family locked inside.

“At first, I was confused, I didn’t understand how it could have happened. Then, I remembered that Kate was the only one who knew about us. My sister and my uncle were the only ones to survive.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“If your uncle and sister survived, then why aren’t they here at the camp?”

“Because they are no longer suffering from the act of existence.” Derek says quietly looking at the younger male. Stiles gives him a sad smile, then looks down at the ground. It’s then that Derek thinks of something.

“You know, you never told me what happened with Argent's daughter,” Stiles’ heartbeat sky rockets. “Do you mind telling me now?”

Stiles stalled for a moment before continuing.

“Allison was dating Scott. She knew he was a werewolf when they got together, and not even her father could keep her away from him. I swear these two were like a modern day Romeo and Juliet. Anyways, after Scott disappeared, me and Allison decided that we were going to try and look for him. I called her one day, telling her that I thought I had a good lead on where Scott might be, so we decided to go check it out.

“We got rear ended on the way there. I was fine but… Allison wasn’t wearing her seatbelt and she went through the windshield. I tried to save her but I wasn’t strong enough…I just made it worse. I lied and told Argent that I wasn’t with her when it happened.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“That doesn’t explain how you got roped into working with him.”

“He was helping me look for Scott.” Stiles told him. “Right after Allison’s funeral he… neither one of us have any family left. I guess he felt bad, or something because I was able to talk him into helping me track down Scott. Now I’m here. I found my best friend and he doesn’t even believe that it’s me.”

“He’ll figure it out eventually.” Derek tries. “Just as well, I highly doubt anyone could forget about a blabber mouth like you.”

Stiles shoves at his arm and then grins lightly.

“C’mon, the others will be wondering where we are.”

 

Later that night, when Derek is asleep, he gets awaken by the sound of his door opening.  Derek sits up, confused as to why someone would be coming into his room. A moment later, a tall, lanky figure comes into his view.

“Stiles?” the figure freezes. “What are you doing?”

“Please don’t say anything.” He whispers almost inaudibly.

From the moonlight pouring through the window, Derek can see Stiles wringing his hands together in an anxious matter. His heart beat is elevated, as if he’d been frightened by something. So Derek nods. Then, he watches as Stiles comes around to the same side of the bed that he’d slept in the previous night. Timidly, he pulls back the covers then slides in next to Derek. Derek lays back down, both of them staring at the ceiling.

“Do you want to talk about it?

“Not really.” Stiles mutters.

“Okay.” Derek replies rolling over but doesn’t go back to sleep. Instead, he listens, and waits for Stiles’ heart beat to slow to a steady rate to turn around to look at him. It’s then in the dim light that Derek takes notice of Stiles’ moles. They’re scattered around his face like small stars in the sky.

Maybe he stays awake and just watches Stiles sleep for a while. Maybe he runs a gentle hand through Stiles’ hair to soothe him when he whines in his sleep. Maybe Derek doesn’t push him off when he subconsciously curls into his side. If he really does do any of those things, he decides that nobody needs to know about it. By the time that he falls asleep again, the sun has already started to come up.  

When Derek wakes up again, he is confused as to why the other side of his bed is cold. He sits up, rubbing his eyes. He sees a piece of paper sitting on the pillow that Stiles has been using. He picks it up, it reads:

_Hey sourwolf, thanks for not asking questions last night, and sorry for drooling on you in my sleep. I went to talk to Argent, I figured it was time that I tell him the truth about Allison. I’ll be back later._

_-Stiles_

_P.S. Your new nickname is sourwolf if you hadn’t noticed, seriously though why do you always look so grumpy._

Derek scoffs then tosses the message to the floor. Leaving his room, he walks to the dining hall only to find it empty except for Lydia who is sitting at one of the tables. She perks her head up at the sound of him coming in.

“Hey, sleepy head.”

“Good morning,” He mumbles sitting across from her.

“Good morning? More like good afternoon, Boyd just got done with lunch. You’ve practically slept the day away. I was starting to think that you would never get out of bed.”

Derek glares at her and she laughs a little. She then winces slightly, closing her eyes and raising a hand to her temple.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s just a headache. I’m sure it’s nothing, no need to worry.”

Derek nods, getting up. He thinks about seeing if Stiles is back yet, but before he can, Lydia lets out a shrill scream from behind him. Just like that, the worry hits him like a ton of bricks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a cousin who actually does have three middle names, but that's only because her parents couldn't decide on what to name her. Lol, per usual I'm still accepting prompts, and please let me know what you guys think of this chapter. Have a great day!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somebody dies. Sorry friends.

Derek’s heart feels like a jack rabbit trying to escape a hunter’s cage. The last time Lydia had screamed like that was the same day that Isaac had died. It had scared him then, now he feels petrified. He’s afraid to think about what this could mean now. Terrified, he whips around to look at Lydia, who is now giving him a look of complete, utter confusion.   

“Was that a Banshee scream or just a Lydia scream?” He asks tentatively.

“Banshee. That was definitely a Banshee thing.” She tells him, the same terrified look appearing on her face. “I’ve had a bad feeling all morning, and that just put everything into perspective.”

“Then we need to find Stiles and Argent, _now_.”

Derek, Lydia and Boyd search nearly every inch of the hotel. Twice. Every room, every closet and any other possible place that they can think of. They’re an hour into their search when Camden comes jogging into the hotel, a limp in his step.

“What’s going on?”

“Lydia screamed, and now we can’t find Argent or Stiles anywhere,” Derek tells him. “Why are you limping?”

“I went for a run in the woods and tripped over a tree root. Where did you look?”

“We checked every room in the hotel, we can’t find them.”

“Are you sure that you checked _every_ room?” Camden questioned.

Derek furrowed his brow, before he caught onto what he was saying. In an instant, he’s marching towards Scott’s room, his pace quickening with every step he takes. He throws the door open, surveys the area, no Stiles. Scott is sitting on the dusty bed, looking at him with curious eyes.

“Where is he? Where is Stiles?” Derek growls.

“H-he’s not here. He-.”

“Don’t you dare say that he’s dead, because he’s not. Now where is he, Scott? What did you do to him? Where are Stiles and Argent? Where are they?”

When Scott shakes his head, Derek grabs him by the throat and slams him up against the nearest wall before he can speak. Scott gives him a panicked look and tries to escape. The next thing Derek knows, Lydia is yanking on his arm, pleading for him to let go.

“Derek, let him go! This won’t fix anything. Hurting him won’t help us find Stiles and Argent.”

Derek’s heart sinks at the words, knowing that she was right. He then releases his hold on the other Alpha. Scott slides to ground, landing in a heap and desperately sucking in air. Derek crouches in front of him, his words harsh.

“If Stiles is dead, and I find out that it’s because of you. I will rip your throat out with my teeth.” He says with a snarl. He gets up and leaves without another word. That night over dinner, the four of them try and figure out what they should do next.

“They could just be lost, it’s a big forest. It would be pretty easy to do.” Boyd says. “But, I guess that that wouldn’t really explain why Lydia screamed.”

“Yeah,” Camden scoffs, laughing a little. “Who knows, maybe they got tired of this shit hole and decided to go on a little joy-ride. You know, like when all of us skipped town. Lord knows I would leave if given the chance to.”

“You think that this is funny?” Derek questions. “One, or both, of them is dead, and you think that it’s funny?”

“No, Derek c’mon you know what I meant.”

“Yeah, well you want to know something else? We didn’t skip town, the government threatened to publicly slaughter us if we didn’t leave. We didn’t have a choice. Besides, you don’t even have to be here. Nobody is making you stay, and no one asked you to come in the first place.” He says, his voice getting louder with every word.

“My _brother_ asked me to come, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, and where’s that brother of yours at now, Cam?”

“Derek.” Lydia tries.

“Let me remind you, jackass, that what happened to Isaac was a tragedy. You know what a tragedy looks like, don’t you Derek? Or did that house fire happen because some of us still don’t know how to keep their mouths shut.”

“Say one more word about my family, and I swear I will rip your throat out with my teeth.”

“Oh yeah? Before or after I shove my foot up your a-.”

“Stop it!” Lydia yells, slamming her fists on the table. “Both of you stop it. We’re not going to find either one of them if all you two do is argue. What we need right now is a plan.”

“What do you suggest that we do then?” Derek said.

Lydia looks around between the four of them. “For now, I… I say that we try and find them. But, before we make any plans, we need to get some sleep. If one of them really is dead, us being exhausted while walking through the woods in the middle of the night isn’t going to help the other one. And if we’re being honest, I’m exhausted. Does that sound good to everyone else?”

The group nods, then Derek gets up and goes to his room. He slams the door behind him, angry that he can’t do more to fix the situation right then and there. Looking down, he sees the note that Stiles had left him that morning. He stares at it for a long while, racking his brain attempting to think of where Stiles could be. Wondering if Stiles really would have up and left without saying a word to anybody about it.

After a while, he flops down onto his bed. He doesn’t sleep a wink the entire night. Instead, he tosses and turns for hours, unable to find sleep. So he comes up with a list of ways he can try and find Stiles and Argent. In the morning, he greets the others in the dining hall.

“So, does anybody have any ideas?” Lydia asks.

“Yeah, I do.” Derek says. “I’ll go out into the woods and look for Stiles.”

“You can’t go out by yourself.”

“I know, that’s not the end of my idea.” He stalks out of the dining room without another word, he can hear people following him. He makes his way to the dark end of the hallway. Without hesitating he throws the door open with ease. Before Scott can ask any questions, Derek says:

“I need your help with something.”

* 

“I hate this plan.” Camden says, crossing his arms. Himself, Lydia and Derek were all standing at the border, waiting for Boyd to come back with Scott. 

“You got any better ideas?” Derek challenged. “Scott is the only one who has a good hold on Stiles’ scent. He’ll be able to find him quicker than Boyd or myself could. If we find Stiles, then we’ll most likely find Argent. This plan has the best odds of bringing one of them back. Where’s Boyd and Scott?”

“Right here.” A voice said. They all turned around to see Scott and Boyd making their way towards the border.

“Would you look at that, he speaks!” Camden said sarcastically. “How remarkable.”

Derek glared at him, and he shut up. He looked to Scott. “You ready?”

Scott nods and Lydia breaks the seal on the mountain ash border. Before Derek could walk through it, she tugged on his arm, pulling him backwards and into a hug.

“Be careful, okay? You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother.”

He nods, and hugs her back. When he lets go, she smiles at him, then walks in the direction of the hotel. Scott and Derek cross through the opening, taking off towards the forest. The two of them walk for a long time before they find anything. More than two hours into the search, Scott comes to a halt in front of Derek.

 “Scott?”

“We need to go this way.” He says, darting to the right. He picks up his speed, and Derek is quick to follow his actions. After a minute, the pair is full on running through the forest. They run until Scott comes skidding to a stop. He looks around in an agitated fashion.

“What? What is it?”

“Do you smell that?” Scott asks.

Derek breathes in deeply, trying to key into what Scott is picking up. He smells pine from the trees, Scott standing next to him and-. Oh shit.   

“Blood.” Scott nods. “Scope the area, see if you find anything. Maybe it’ll lead us to-.” His statement is cut off when Scott gasps at something behind him.

Derek turns to see a body curled up against the side of a tree less than a hundred feet away. Hesitant, Derek takes a step forward, and with every step closer he begins to recognize the figure, so he quickens his pace.

Stiles’ eyes are half open and glassy, looking off into the distance. His left eye is swollen and has a purple tint to it, as if he’d been hit in the face. His bloodied hands twitch where they sit in his lap, and the rest of his lanky frame trembles harshly with every breath that he takes. Derek crouches in his line of vision.

“Stiles? Stiles can you hear me?”

The younger man only whimpered. Confused, Derek turned to see what Stiles was looking at. He felt his heart stop at the sight, seeing Argent lying against another tree a few feet away. A silver hand gun sitting in his limp hand, a prominent gunshot wound on his right temple, blood covering his face and torso. Derek can’t help but think about how gray the skin of the older man looks. Immediately he knows he’ll never be able to get that image out of his head.

“Scott, can you-.” He doesn’t have to finish his sentence, because Scott has already made his way over to where Argent lies. Taking the gun out of his hand and laying his body flat on the ground.

Derek takes Stiles’ face in his hands. “We need to get you out of here, alright? Can you stand up? Are you hurt at all? Stiles?”

Stiles stares blankly at him and whimpers again, this time his with a ragged breath. Derek feels Stiles’ pulse quicken underneath his touch. His heart rate continues to rise, until his neck goes slack in Derek’s hands, and he passes out.

“Scott, run back to camp and let the others know.”

“What about him?” Scott asks quietly.

Derek doesn’t have to look to know what Scott is talking about. He feels sick at the thought of leaving Argent’s body in the middle of the woods. He keeps talking, not believing a single word that leaves his tongue.

“We’ll come back for him later. Right now, we have to get help for Stiles, now go.” Derek states then watches Scott run in the direction of the hotel without another word.

Looking back at Stiles, he takes in his pale skin and lanky, unconscious frame. Picking him up, he half walks half runs back to camp with him, holding him bridal style. Every once in a while, Derek will look down at him and think:

_Look at what you’ve gotten yourself into, kid._

As soon as he got back to camp, Lydia locks herself inside of Stiles’ room with him, much like the day that he’d shown up. Although, this time instead of Argent waiting outside the room with Derek, it’s Scott. While they’re sitting there, Scott pulls a gun out of his pocket, and hands it to Derek.

“It was the gun that Argent had in his hand.” He tells the other alpha. “I thought that you had taken all of his weapons.”

 “How do you know about that?”

“I heard it.” Scotts says simply.

Derek nods, he unloads the chamber of the gun, then pockets the bullets. “Yeah, I did take his weapons.”

“Then how did he get the hand gun?”

“That’s what I’m still trying to figure out.” Derek says. “Can I ask you something?”

Scott nods.                             

“That day that Stiles and I stormed into your room, why did you think that he wasn’t real?”

Scott thinks for a long moment before answering. “I wanted to believe him, I _really_ wanted to believe that it was him. I just… I had started having dreams about him, shortly after I got here. Stiles would show up and start asking me all these questions. Asking why I left, why I didn’t try harder to save his dad, stuff like that. So, when you guys showed up… I don’t really know, I guess-.”

“You thought that you were dreaming.” Derek interjects.

“Yeah, just as well, another part of me thought that Stiles might have been dead.”

“Why did you think that?”

“Because I heard two shots go off. I just assumed that they shot the Sheriff, and then shot Stiles for being an accomplice in hiding me. I was scared shitless, so I climbed out the window and ran as far as I could. Eventually, I ended up here. Now, I’m kind of glad that I did.”

The words no more leave his mouth, and the door to Stiles’ room opens and Lydia is standing in the doorway. Her once tight ponytail is now gone, her hair falling down her back like a red waterfall. Derek and Scott both stand.

“He’s fine,” she says. “Other than the black eye and the cuts on the odd cuts on his hands, he just fine. Physically, at least.”

“Lydia, what are you talking about?”

She looked at Derek with sad eyes. “I-I don’t know what’s wrong. His eyes were open the entire time, but he wouldn’t even look at me. He wouldn’t say anything to me, either. I tried talking to him, but nothing happened. He just sat there.”

“It must be shock. Hell, I only looked at Argent’s body for a couple minutes and I still feel sick to my stomach. I can’t imagine having to look at that for more than five minutes, let alone a whole day. He really didn’t say anything to you?”

Lydia shook her head. Derek sighed, then let himself into Stiles’ room, Scott following close behind him.

Stiles is lying on the bed, faced towards the windows. He’s curled up in the fetal position, one of his arms covering his face. As if he’s trying to make himself invisible. Derek can’t help but think about how small he looks. He crosses over to the opposite side of the bed. He wants to reach out and touch him, give him a hug to make him feel better, but Derek knows that that won’t do anything to fix what happened.

Instead, he watches Scott sit on the bed behind Stiles. Not touching him, but still close enough that Stiles knows that someone is there. Stiles doesn’t react at all.

“I’ll come back a little bit later.”

Scott nods, and Derek leaves. He walks back to his room, sits down onto his bed, and pulls the gun out of his pocket. He inspects it, turning it over in his hands. He doesn’t find anything on it that could prove that the gun belongs to Argent. Setting it down, he pulls out the bullets, in total there’s four of them. Derek finds that odd, seeing as the gun was meant to hold as many as six bullets.  

He twirls one of them around in his fingers. It’s not silver, and there’s no emblem on it to prove that it belongs to a certain hunter. The bullet itself is no more than half the length of Derek’s thumb. It’s not long and thin like the other wolfsbane bullets he has seen. He bites off the head, then shakes it, expecting wolfsbane to fall into his hand.

When nothing comes out, he makes a realization and the same terrified feeling he’d had after Lydia screamed returns. This gun and these bullets weren’t meant to kill a werewolf. They were meant to kill somebody who is human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope that you guys like this chapter. Let me know what you think about it. I hope y'all have a good day.


	6. Chapter 6

Derek is still staring the bullet in his hands when the door opens. Quickly, he stuffs the remaining bullets in his pockets as Camden walks in. Almost immediately, he notices the hand gun sitting next to Derek.

“I thought that you didn’t like guns.” He says in a hushed tone.

“I don’t.”

“Then where did you get it?”

“Argent had it,” Derek tells him. “He used it to shoot himself in the head. Scott and I found Stiles sitting a few feet away from his body. Stiles is fine physically, but he hasn’t said anything since we found him so…I don’t really know how he’s doing.”

“So we fixed one lunatic only to gain another? Great, that sounds just great.”

Derek scoffs, then stands and moves towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to go check on the lunatic.” He said sarcastically.

Leaving the room, he makes his way towards Stiles’ room. When he gets there, he finds that he wasn’t the only one that wants to keep an eye on Stiles. Scott is passed out on the floor next to Stiles’ bed, while Lydia is sitting up against the headboard. Stiles’ head now rests on Lydia’s thigh, her hand moving gently across his scalp while he sleeps.

“Has he…?”

Lydia shakes her head. Derek sits at the edge of the bed, crossing his legs.

“What’s that?” She asks him.

Derek follows her gaze, and realizes that a bullet is poking out of his pants pocket. Pulling it out, he shows it to her.  Her eyes widen in confusion. “It’s from the gun that Argent had.”

“How many bullets are left?”

“Four, but the gun itself was designed to hold up to six at one time.”

“So one of them is missing?”

“Or it’s already been used.” Derek deadpans, Lydia nods and looks away. He pockets the bullets once again.

“What were they doing in the woods? Argent and Stiles, I mean.”

“Stiles had to talk to Argent.” He tells her. “It was about the death of his daughter. Argent never go the full story of what happened. Stiles probably felt entitled to tell him the truth.”

Lydia stayed silent for a while before responding. “I used to write letters to Allison.”

“You did?”

She nodded, her eyes watering. “I wanted her to know that I was okay, I didn’t want her to worry herself to death. So I sat down one day and wrote her a letter, then I gave it to Deaton. I asked him to mail it for me. The next time he came back, he had a letter for me from her. After that, we started writing to each other every chance we had. Then when I didn’t get one back, I… I didn’t know what to think. Do you think that Stiles killed Allison?”

Derek thinks back to the conversation Stiles and him had had in the woods a few days prior. He could tell her the whole story, tell her the story that Stiles had told him. But he knows that that isn’t his story to tell to others, it’s Stiles’.

“No,” he answers. “I don’t think he did. Do you?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, that’s hard to decide when I haven’t seen him since we were in high school. I don’t really know him anymore. Things were much easier back then, to say the least. We didn’t have to worry about hiding from people, or dying or leaving behind people that we loved. We could just be whoever we wanted to.”

“I’m not sure that I ever got to do that.” Derek says quietly, then changes the subject. “You said something about his hands? What happened to them?”

“Whoever did this obviously knew what they were doing.” She tells him. “These cuts on his palms and tops of his finger were definitely meant to harm somebody with a spark, Mage or not.”

Derek gaped at her. “Lydia I… Lydia how did you know about that?”

“I like to read, if you hadn’t noticed. Besides, Stiles broke his hand in _multiple places_ trying to break out of a broom closet, and it healed _overnight_. Did you two seriously think that I wasn’t going to notice?” 

“That’s… a really good point.” He says, nearly speechless. “Continue, please.”

She gestures to a bandaged hand. “They’re obviously runes, but they look different from the ones on his arms. I don’t know what it is about them, but they’re definitely not like his other ones. These are sloppy, like who ever had done it had been in a rush to get it done.”

Gently, he picks up one of Stiles’ hands, and unravels the white gauze. Much like Lydia said, the runes sloppy, but they still look like runes. The skin around them is red and irritated, looking as though it may scar.

“They’ll heal though, won’t they?” Derek asks.

“I’m not sure,” She replies. “I mean, yeah, he somehow healed a broken hand over night, but-.”

“He didn’t even realize that he had done it.”

Lydia nods.

“Shit.” He says running a hand over his face. “What happens if he doesn’t figure out to heal himself?”

“I’m not sure. We’ll have to wait until he wakes up to find out.”

 *

Stiles spends the rest of that day and most of the next day asleep. Only really waking when Lydia rouses him to check for a concussion, which he doesn’t seem to have. Just as well, it rained almost all day long, the strong winds and thunder having forced everyone inside of the hotel for the time being. Lydia asked Derek if he thought that Stiles was somehow controlling the storm.

Derek didn’t know how to answer that truthfully.   

It’s the middle of the afternoon when he finally comes to. Derek is half asleep himself, having dozed off out of boredom. When he opens his eyes, Stiles is sitting up, both his legs hanging off the side of the bed. He stares at the storm through the open window.

“Hey,” Derek says carefully. “How are you feeling?”

Stiles doesn’t answer, and the silence between them makes the storm sound even louder than it actually is.

“I’m sorry about what happened to Argent. We would have come and found you sooner, but we didn’t know what to do. I’m not going to say that I understand, because I know that I’ll come close to understanding how you feel. But I… I want you to know that I’m going to be here for you, if you need me.”

Derek gets up, figuring that Stiles may need some time to himself, time to think. He gets halfway to the door when Stiles speaks up.

“He told me about what he did.”

It’s barely a whisper, but Derek knows that he heard it. He whips around so fast that he’s sure that if he didn’t the ability to heal, he’d have done permanent damage on his neck.

“What did you say?”

Stiles’ voice cracks. “Camden told me about Isaac, about what he did to him.”

Derek rushes back to the bed and sits down just behind Stiles. “Stiles I need you to tell me what he said to you. No one else knows what happened to Isaac that day, please, I need you to tell me everything that he told you.”

Stiles sucks in a shaky breath, and shifts his body to face Derek before starting. “He told me about how you all got sick. Told me about how you and Boyd got better, but Isaac didn’t. “

“It was mistletoe,” Derek told him. “Somehow it got into the food, we were sick for weeks. After a while, Boyd and I got better. But it did something bad to Isaac.”

_*_

_Derek knocks on the door before letting himself into Camden and Isaac’s room. Cautiously he walks in, the hairs on his neck standing up out of nerves. Camden sits at the edge of Isaac’s bed, while Isaac sleeps on his back. He’s covered in a layer of sweat, and his curly hair sticks to his forehead. Derek is sure that he’s never seen somebody look so pale._

_“Are you sure that you want to sit so close?” Derek asks._

_“I’ll be fine.”_

_“He nearly took your eye out, Cam.”_

_“I said I’ll be fine.” Camden says sharply, turning to face him. His left eye has a brightly colored bruise around it. “He’s just sick, he’ll be fine in a day or two.”_

_“I was sick to, but I didn’t come close to blinding anybody. Look, I get that he’s your brother, okay, I do. But he isn’t getting any better. It’s been nearly a month; we have to do something else for him. Deaton will be here tomorrow, maybe he can-.”_

_“No. No I’m not letting that crazy vet anywhere near my brother.”_

_“That crazy vet keeps us fed and makes sure that no one finds us.”_

_“And how do you know that he didn’t do this, huh?” Camden gets up in Derek’s face. “How do you know that he didn’t poison the food? That way, he could make us weak and helpless. Then he could drag us off the to the police, where all of us would be publicly slaughtered just for being alive. Huh? Did you ever think about that, Derek?”_

_“Isaac is going to die if we don’t do something.”_

_“You think that I don’t know that?” He yelled. No more did the words leave his mouth, than did Isaac begin to stir on the bed. When he rolls onto his side, Camden rushes over to him, crouching by his bedside._

_“Hey little man, are you feeling any better?” He says gently, as if he hadn’t been yelling._

_“Not really.” Isaac mumbles._

_Derek watches him sit up, then grab onto his brother for stability. The pair stand up slowly, and Camden gets an arm around his brother’s waist._

_“Let’s go for a little walk, huh?” When Isaac nods, Camden leads him out of the room. Derek follows them all the way to the border, then watches as they disappear into the forest._

*

“Lydia screamed while they were gone, Boyd, Lydia and I all feared the worst. Camden came back about an hour later, but he was by himself. We kept asking him where Isaac was, but he just kept saying that he had things taken care. I just assumed…” When Derek trails off, Stiles grabs one of his hands and gives it a light squeeze, trying not to wince from the pain.

“He told me about how he took Isaac out into the woods.”

_*_

_“_ _What are we doing all the way out here?” Isaac asked, feeling tired, he laid back against a tree._

_“No one will hear us all the way out here.” Camden said._

_“Hear us? Why wouldn’t you want them to hear us?” he asked warily. He watched as his older brother pulled a silver hand gun out of his pocket. “Where did you get that? What are you doing?”_

_“Something that I should have done earlier.” When he cocks the gun, dread fills Isaac’s stomach._

_“Cam? Camden wait- don’t, please don’t do this, please Cam do-.”_

 *

“He shot his own brother. The only family he had left and he shot him. I mean… how could somebody do that?”

“I don’t know.” Derek said quietly.

“I tried to stop him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I… I tried to reason with him, I tried to get him to stop, you know? I tried to get him not to do it but he wouldn’t listen to me. He kept saying that he had to do, said he had no other choice.” Stiles looks up at Derek, his eyes wet. “I tried to stop him, Derek. I-I promise, I did. He wouldn’t listen to me, h-he wouldn’t-.” 

Derek’s heard enough, so he pulls on Stiles’ arm until his skinny frame falls back into his embrace. Stiles turns into the comforting hold and sobs loudly into Derek’s shoulder. Derek thinks back to the day that Stiles had discovered Scott was at the camp, how he had held the twenty-year old in a similar way. Only this time, Stiles was crying for a different reason, and it was much more intimate than before. This time, Derek held him around his waist with one arm, and used to the other to grip the back of his head.

“I’m so sorry, Stiles.” Derek whispers in his ear.

“I didn’t get to tell Argent what happened to Allison. I should have told him sooner, I-I should have-.”

“Hey, hey wait hold on-,” Derek pulls his head back lightly, just enough to look him in the eye. “you didn’t tell Argent about what happened?”

Stiles shook his head. “I didn’t have a chance to.”

“Why not? I thought you went to talk to him.”

“I did; but Camden shot him before I had the chance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is going to be a bit longer (that's what it looks like right now), so it might be a bit longer than usual before I update this again. There's only about two chapters left, but with the ending I have planned, there may be some small stand alone sequels in the future, yay! I really hope that you guys liked this chapter! Have a great day!


	7. Chapter 7

 

_“What are we doing out here?” Argent asked, wondering why Stiles would drag him deep into the woods just to talk._

_“I have to tell you something,” Stiles tells the older man. “It’s about Allison. There’s something that I didn’t tell you.”_

_“Why are you telling me this?”_

_“Because you’re her father, and you need to know. Look the day she died, I-.” A branch snaps from behind them and Stiles freezes, he turns around just in time to get hit in the face with the back end of a handgun. He hits the ground and blacks out from the impact._

_When he comes to later, his head feels foggy, and he knows that something isn’t right._

_Through heavy eyes, Stiles looked up from where he was curled up against a tree. He sees a blurry, yet familiar figure a few feet away from him, moving around another tree. He tries to push himself up only to find that his hands feel like they have been set on fire. His palms and fingers are covered in runes that Stiles doesn’t recognize_

_"What did you do to me?" He mumbles. The figure turns around, and Stiles is met with the same icy pair of eyes he'd seen just before being trapped in a closet._

_"They’re runes, you know what those are, don’t you Stiles? Seeing as you’re a mage or something, right? I know more than you think that I do."_

_“So what you’re going to torture me or something? Kill me?”_

_"Nope, but I might just kill him instead." Camden says in a mischievous tone, then moves to the side, revealing an unconscious Argent, propped up against a tree much like Stiles is. Stiles panics._

_"Why are you doing this to us? We didn't do anything to you."_

_"Oh, but you did, Stiles. You two showed up at the camp and threw off the balance of everything. My life was going along just fine, and then you two came along, and Derek threw his morals out the window for an Argent and some stupid kid who doesn't know what he's gotten himself into. You two ruined everything."_

_"Your brother died." Stiles says quietly._

_"No, Isaac-." He stops himself. "Isaac was sick…and what happened was bound to happen eventually. I did what needed to be done.”_

_“You killed your own brother.”_

_“I helped put him out of his misery, don’t you get that?” Camden yells, pointing a small hand gun at Stiles’ head. “I did what needed to be done, I took care of things. Now, I’m going to take care of your friend here.”_

_“You’re a sick bastard.” Stiles says, then kicks his leg out, nailing Camden in the ankle. He stumbles, but only for a moment before he gets down onto one knee, grabbing Stiles’ face harshly and holding the gun right at his temple._

_“Don’t just- please don’t, you don’t have to do this.”_

_“You’re right, I don’t have to…I want to.” He says. Just like that, the back end of the gun connects with Stiles’ face again, and he blacks out._

 

“I woke up a little bit later, and the first thing that I saw was Argent with a gun in his hand and gunshot wound to the head. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to get up, but I couldn’t even move. He wasn’t family, but still he was all I had left from home, you know?” Stiles sits back against the headboard, and rubs his hands over his face, he winces at the contact.

“Do they hurt? Your hands, I mean.”

Stiles nods. “He did something to them I… I can’t feel the spark anymore. I used to feel it in my hands, now it’s like it was never even there. I don’t know how, but he did something to me, after he knocked me out.”

“Lydia said that there were runes on your palms and fingers.”

Stiles’ eyes widen with fear, then he begins to tear away at the bandages on his hands. His movements are quick, harsh and messy, but he gets them off. He gasps at the sight, his hands are pale and the skin around the wounds are still bright red and irritated. His fingernails are a strange gray color.

“These runes, I-I’ve seen them before.”

“What do they mean?”

“They’re like a bad omen. I’ve read stories where if somebody who embodied the spark, they would get these runes carved into their skin. That way people would know that they’re evil, and then no one would ever go near them again. Anybody with these marks were shunned from society.”

“Well what if they weren’t actually evil? What if somebody just thought that they were and marked them that way even though they weren’t bad at all?”

“That didn’t matter, once someone with a spark-.”

“A Mage,” Derek interrupted. “you’re Mage, that’s what Lydia called you.”

“Right. Once a Mage was said to have gone evil, that was end of them. They didn’t just get shunned, more often than not it made them weak. These runes are like a poison to their spark. It drains their magic until there is nothing left, eventually the Mage will get sick or go mad.”

Before Derek has a chance to ask Stiles if he’s ever heard a story where the Mage lives, the door opens.

“Derek, Lydia is asking… for you.” Scott says, his eyes growing wide at the sight of Stiles.

Stiles looks at him with a hopeful expression. “Scotty?”

He nods. “Yeah, yeah it’s me.”

In an instant, Stiles is up off the bed and throwing himself at Scott, wrapping his arms around the alpha. Scott hugs him back earnestly. A small smile grows on Derek’s face, relieved for the pair that they had finally came back to each other.  

“Oh my god, I thought I’d never see you again.” Stiles says.

“I missed you too, Stiles.” Scott replies.

Derek takes this as his cue to leave and let the two have their moment. Quietly, he slips past them, and shuts the door behind him. Looking up, he sees Lydia waiting for him at the end of the hallway.

“There you are; I need to talk you. It’s about Argent.”

“What about him?”

“You said that he shot himself in the head, right?” Derek nods, she continues. “The day after he and Stiles showed up, I snuck into the room you gave him and looked through his weapons. I know that that’s wrong, and I shouldn’t have done it but… Argent didn’t have a gun with him. He had arrows and wolfsbane and some other shit that I didn’t recognize, but he didn’t have a gun on him Derek.”

“I know.” He tells her.

“Then where did he get the gun?”

“I think I know the answer to that too.”

 

It’s morning, and its Derek’s turn for the sunrise shift at the border. But he’s not doing it today. He had more pressing matters to take care of. Instead, he’s standing over Camden as he sleeps, trying to figure out how to confront him about the things that Stiles told him. He starts by taking his pillow out from under his head. When he startles awake, the words start coming out of Derek’s mouth before he can plan what to say.

“Get up.”

“Derek? What are you-.”

“Get up, meet me at the border in five minutes.” He leaves without another word. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he feels the smoothness of the handgun under his fingers; he really hopes that he won’t end up having to use it. A few minutes later, Camden comes walking out to the border, a tired and confused look on his face.

“Is there a reason you made me get out of bed at sunrise? It’s not my turn in rotation for morning duty.”

“We need to talk.”

“About what?”

“About what you did to Argent and Stiles. I know that it was you who attacked them in the woods the other day.”

“Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?”

Derek pulls the gun out of his pocket and throws it on the ground in the space between them. “Because Argent didn’t have a gun on him when he showed up here, so there’s no way that this gun belongs to him. And these bullets, they’re regular bullets, not wolfsbane bullets. A hunter wouldn’t have any reason to carry this kind of bullets so don’t you fucking dare try and tell me that it’s not yours because I know that it is.”

His expression doesn’t falter; he doesn’t try to deny it. “Alright, fine, you caught me I did it.”

“Where did you get the gun?”

“I’ve had it since before we got here, Hale. I bought it when the announcement came out about supernatural creatures being banned. I figured that I was going to need to protect myself eventually. That’s exactly what I did.”

Derek feels the anger building in his gut. “Why? He was innocent, he hadn’t done anyth-.”

“Argent didn’t do anything, _my ass_. He comes from a long line of hunters, Derek! His family is made up of killers, and you just let him waltz in here like he hadn’t done a damn thing. He’s murdered people, and you just decided to let that go. So I did something about it. He would have hurt one of us eventually if I hadn’t.”

“You don’t know that, you had no right.”

“I did what I needed to do. I did you a favor.”

“You killed your brother.” Derek screamed. “You killed Isaac and you killed Argent.”

“Werewolf or not it’s near impossible to survive taking a bullet right between the eyes. You know what else? I would do it all over again if it meant keeping myself safe.”

Livid, Derek lunges for Camden and tackles him to the ground. Derek digs a knee into his chest, and pins him to the ground. “You’re a sick son of a bitch.”

“You’re just mad that I killed him before you did.” He croaks from underneath the alpha. “Don’t tell me that hadn’t considered it, I know you Derek.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, you don’t know anything.” He says going straight for his throat. Camden manages to land a hard punch to Derek’s face, knocking him off balance. He gets the upper hand, flipping them both over and straddles Derek, closing a hand around his throat. Derek sinks his claws into his arm in an attempt to free himself. He hisses but doesn’t loosen his grip on the werewolf.  

“You should have listened to me, Hale.” Camden says, watching the alpha’s eye go wide with fear. “I told you that Argent was dangerous, tried to tell you that people would get hurt if you let him and your stupid little boyfriend stay, but you wouldn’t listen to me. Now you’re going to pay for it.”

His hand tightens even more around Derek’s throat, and his vision starts to go dark at the edges. _This is it_ he thinks to himself _I’m going to die at the hand of my best friend, die at the hand of a human. That’s not how I imagined I-._ Before he can finish the thought, the hand around his neck is gone. Derek opens his eyes just enough to see Stiles throwing Camden off and away from him.

Quickly, Derek scrambles to his feet, picking up the gun as he goes. Looking up, he sees Camden standing a few feet away, a bleeding werewolf bite prominent on his shoulder. He sees this and smirks.

“You understand what you’ve done, don’t you?” he says. “You just bit someone who isn’t afraid to kill people in order to get the job done. You’ve only made me stronger Derek.”

“Not for long.”

“What? Are you going to shoot me Derek? Go ahead, I’d like-.”

Without giving it a second thought, Derek raises the gun, and fires, shooting Camden in the leg, just above his knee. He falls back with a painful groan. After a minute, he pushes himself up onto his one good leg, fuming with anger. He hobbles towards Derek and Stiles.

“You two actually think some stupid bullet is going to stop me from getting in?”

“No,” Stiles speaks up. “but I think that the mountain ash will.”

He makes a confused face, then his eyes grow wide as he looks down at the ground. When Stiles had thrown Camden off of Derek, he’d ended up on the outside of the border. Walking forward trying to get it, he was pushed back as soon as he came into contact with the mountain ash. Both Camden and Derek looked back at Stiles.

“You’re not the only one who’s strong, bitch.”

“It’s just a bullet. It’ll heal, then I will be waiting out here. Every single day, waiting for one of you to leave camp, then I’ll rip you to pieces. Every last one of you.”

“No you won’t,” Derek states sternly. “When Argent came here, he had vials filled with wolfsbane with him. I coated the bullets with the wolfsbane before I loaded the gun this morning. It won’t matter if the bite takes or not because you’ll dead before the day is over. Now I suggest you get out of here before fire another shot into your brain. Believe me, Lahey, I won’t miss.”

Camden scowls at him, then turns and limps off into the woods. Once he’s completely out of sight, Derek breathes a sigh of relief and lets his body sag. He stumbles back and finds himself a moment later sitting on the ground, Stiles sitting next to him.

“You did it, you got rid of the bad guy.”

“I also just proved what I feared to be true. That my best friend isn’t really the type of person that I thought he was.” Derek says quietly.

Stiles slings a careful arm around the alpha’s shoulders. “I’m really sorry Derek.”

“Yeah,” he says, leaning into the touch. “So am I.”

“I’m going to ask you a question that you don’t have to answer.” Stiles announces. “Right before I pulled him off of you, I heard Camden call me your little boyfriend. Is that how you view me? Because whether that’s true or not…I’m okay with that, I’m flattered seriously. I just wanted you to know that…can I do something really quick.”

Derek nodded, curious as to what was coming. The next thing he knew, Stiles was leaning towards him, planting a kiss on his cheek. He felt his face go red at the contact.

“Sorry, I just- I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.”

He gave Stiles a sad look. Derek wanted him to know how much he enjoys having Stiles around at the camp, how he has come to value him during the short period of time that he has been there. Being near Stiles made him feel as though he could breathe a bit easier. He couldn’t explain the feeling, but he wanted to be around him all the time.

Derek didn’t tell him that, though. Instead he nodded, saying, “It’s okay, I…Thanks, Stiles.” He’d find a way to tell him some other day.

Stiles smiled at him. “C’mon, we need to go back to bed. It’s far too early to be awake right now.”

 

That night, while the five of them are eating dinner, Lydia lets out a deafening scream. The room goes silent, nobody says anything as Derek stiffens visibly and walks away. He goes to his room, sits on his bed and tries to compose himself. He holds his head in his hands, feeling frustrated and heavy-hearted. He’s not sure how much time passes before a rap on the door pulls him out of his thoughts.   

Looking up at the open doorway, Derek sees Stiles standing there, an empathetic expression on his face.

“You okay?”

Derek shakes his head, laying back on the bed. The twenty-year old lays down next to him, their shoulders brushing as he does so and Derek’s stomach turns into a bundle of nerves, like a swarm of bees. Part of him wants to roll over and curl into Stiles and stay there for a long as humanly possible. The other part of him wants to ask Stiles to leave, because he’s embarrassed to be seen like this.

So Derek rolls onto his stomach, raising his arms above his head as to cover his face. The sun is setting outside and it makes the room seem darker with each passing second. He’s relieved and grateful for the lack of light because tears are forming behind his eyes and he doesn’t think he can keep himself together much longer.

“I killed my best friend.”

A gentle hand comes to rest at the nape of Derek’s neck, slim fingers ghosting over his hair line. “I know… I’m so sorry Derek.”

“Please don’t leave.” He says in a voice he doesn’t recognize.

“I won’t,” Stiles whispers, pressing himself into Derek’s side. “I won’t leave, I’m going to stay right here with you and cause all kinds of mayhem.”

 

When Derek wakes up later, he doesn’t know what time it is, but its dark out and the moonlight is coming in through the windows. He figures that its sometime around midnight. He shifts, he’s reminded of the other body in bed with him. Sitting up, he looks at Stiles’ sleeping figure. He’s in a t-shirt now, and Derek takes a notice that his arms have more muscle on them than they appear.

Almost as if he subconsciously knew he was being watched, Stiles began to awake. His eyes immediately landed on Derek. “Hey, are you feeling any better?”

Derek shrugged. Stiles continued.

“Well, just so you know, I told Scott about what happened to Allison. I did it after you left yesterday, I figured that I might as well get it over with. Somebody had to know what really happened to her, you know? If not her father, then at least her boyfriend would know. He was sad, but he understood and reassured me that it wasn’t my fault. Which, honestly, is the best thing that he could have told me.”

“He sounds like a great friend.”

“Scott is one of my favorite human beings in the whole wor- actually scratch that- in the whole universe.” Stiles tells him with a smile, he rests one of his hands on top of Derek’s. 

“How are your hands?”

“About the same,” he says, holding them out for Derek to see. “Right now I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

“Did you ever read any stories where a Mage survived after being marked this way?”

“No, not that I can remember.”

“When I was younger, my father used to break mine and my sister’s fingers when we weren’t healing as quickly as we should have, he said that it triggered the healing process. Maybe you just need something to trigger your healing process.”

“Like a jumpstart?”

 “Yeah, I guess that you could think of it like that.”

“Well my hands are already injured so, do you have any other ideas? Preferably one that doesn’t include you breaking any of my bones.”

Derek huffed out a laugh, and thought for a minute. He had one idea, but he was afraid that it would go badly for both parties if it wasn’t reciprocated correctly. But it was worth a shot if it meant keeping Stiles around. “Can I try something?”

“Sure, what did you have in mind?”

Before Derek could talk himself out of the idea, he placed a hand on the back of Stiles’ neck, pulling him forward to connect their mouths. It was messy and uncoordinated, but Derek loved every bit of it. After a moment, he pulled away and looked to Stiles, who grinned at him like Derek had just handed him the stars.

He looked down at his hands, watching the skin slowly begin to fade from angry shade of red to a light pink color. “I think it’s working.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but I think that we should do that again. You know, just to make sure that it keeps working. Yeah, that sounds like a great plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sad to say that the next chapter is the final chapter of this story. BUT, I have a small series of sorts planned, all of which is based around this story, I think you guys will really enjoy it. I hope that you guys liked this chapter, it's the longest one to date, let me know what you thought about in the comments. Thanks for being awesome, have a great day!


	8. Chapter 8

_Epilogue: 5 months’ post Camden’s death_

Derek wakes up in the morning and the sun is shining, light pouring in from the window casts a subtle, golden glow on the room. Feeling content, he rolled over, pressing himself against the still sleeping body next to him. Stiles stirred at the touch, raising his head to look at Derek, he grunted.

“Good morning.”

“It’s too early to be awake.”

“You say that every morning.”

“Yes, and every morning, I am correct.”

Derek propped himself up on his elbow, watching Stiles move over onto his back. Stretching his arms above his head, the moan he lets out reminds Derek of the previous night. They had spent most of the night exploring each other’s bodies, praising and pleasing each other. It wasn’t the first time they had done it since getting together, but regardless it made Derek feel like the luckiest guy in the world.

“You’re staring, sour wolf.” Stiles told him, glaring at him with one eye cracked open.

“I think I’ve earned it.” Derek replied, ignoring the nickname. He presses kisses on his face, neck and collar bone. Stiles let out a pleased sigh, then turned to capture Derek’s mouth in a kiss. Grabbing a hold of the back of the alpha’s neck, he pulled him closer, only stopping when a yelling from down the hall started up.

“Get a room!” Scott yelled.

“We have one,” Stiles called back. “why don’t you shut up and go back to sleep, you butt face.”

Derek laughed. “Butt face?”

“It’s early, my comebacks aren’t as sharp. Don’t judge me.”

Derek scoffs, then perks his head up at the sound of an engine in the distance, growing closer by the second. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear wh-.” The sound of a car door opening and closing interrupts him. Derek scrambles to get out of bed, pulling his clothes as he goes. “Derek?”

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He shuffles out, closing the door behind him. Making his way to the front doors of the hotel, he peeks out of one of the open windows. Upon seeing Deaton and his car parked at the edge of the border, he breathes a sigh of relief and goes out to greet him.

“I wasn’t aware that you were coming today.”

“I hadn’t planned on it either, but then this happened and I thought that you would want to know as soon as possible.” Deaton says, holding out a newspaper to Derek. He takes it, inspecting the front cover. It reads: _Governor of California announces Supernatural creatures will be allowed to live freely throughout the state. Effective immediately._

“When did you get this?” Derek asks, never taking his eyes off of the paper.

“Yesterday morning, I drove here as soon as I could. I figured that you would want to know. It seems as though your luck has changed, Mr. Hale.”

 

“This came out yesterday?” Boyd asked.

Derek nodded, “That’s what Deaton told me. Said that he came here as soon as he got it.” The three of them had gathered in the dining hall after Derek had woken them up, saying he had news.

“Wait, look at this,” Lydia says. “It says that last month the Sheriff of Riverside county had been sentenced to at least twenty years in prison with a possibility of the death sentence for killing supernatural creatures unlawfully. He even admitted to a jury that he murdered humans in the process, and commanding some of his deputy’s to do the same. Wow.”

“Riverside…Stiles told me about him. That’s the guy that killed his dad for hiding Scott in their house. Somebody found out about it and went to the police with it.”

“Does Stiles know about this? The announcement, I mean.”

“N-no.” Derek stammers. “You guys have been here just as long as I have, and I wanted to come tell you guys first. I thought that you guys deserved to know.”

“Deserved to know what?”

Derek whipped around to see Stiles standing in the doorway, rumpled from having been discarded on the floor the previous night. He holds out the newspaper, he takes it, eyes darting across the page to read the words.

“Oh my god.” He breathes out. “I can go home; Scott can go see his mom. We can all go home; this is ama- why do none of you look excited. This is good news, hell it’s great news why aren’t all of you jumping up and down with glee?”

Boyd shakes his head. “Stiles we can’t just go home.”

“Why not?”

Derek speaks up. “Stiles, you need to understand it’s been 4, almost five years since any of us have been home. Lydia and Boyd’s families probably think that they’re dead by now. I don’t even have anybody to go home to. We can’t- _I can’t_ go back. There’s nothing there for me to go back to. I’m not going, I’m staying here.”

“I know, I just…” a troubled look crosses Stiles’ face. “I uh…sorry, I need a minute to myself.”

Derek sighs, and watches him walk away. Very well knowing that he could have just messed things up, permanently. He turns back to Boyd and Lydia; she gives him an empathetic glance.

“I’ll go tell Scott the news.” She says, leaving the room.

Once she’s gone, he plops down into a nearby seat, and Boyd follows his action. Derek rests his head in his hands. “This isn’t selfish, right? Me choosing to stay here and to not go back to California, it’s not selfish, is it?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then please explain to me why I feel like such an ass for staying here.”

“Because he’s important to you,” Boyd reminds him. “You care about him and he cares about you, that’s how relationships work. Sometimes, the two of you are going to want different things, and that’s okay. It happens with everyone.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly the poster child for relationships, romantic or platonic.”

“That doesn’t mean that you can’t make this one work.” Boyd walks away after that, leaving Derek alone to consider the things that he had said. He wanted to make things work with Stiles, hell he wanted to be with Stiles for as long as he can, he’s not ready to let go of him yet. After another minute of thinking, he decides he’s going to go find Stiles.

It doesn’t take Derek long to find him. After going back to their room and not finding him there, he goes up to the roof. He’d found Stiles up there a handful of times before, like after their first (almost) fight and one night after a particularly bad nightmare. He’s sitting at the edge of the roof, feet dangling off the rim. Derek gets about three feet away from him before he speaks up.

“I’m not going back to California.” Stiles says without turning around. “If Scott wants to go see his mom then he should do it, but I’m not going with him if he does.”

“Why the change of heart?”

“I wasn’t going to go without you.”

 “You weren’t?” he asks, sitting down next to his boyfriend.

He shakes his head. “When you handed me the newspaper, my immediate reaction in my head was, holy shit I can’t wait to show Derek where I grew up. But I’m not going to leave you here, okay? I’m not. Besides, I’d miss you like hell if I did.” Stiles then looks to Derek with wide eyes and a sad smile.

“You can go; you know that right? I’m not going to make you stay here if you don’t want to. I’d hate feeling like I had forced you into something that you didn’t want. Especially something that would keep you from the people you care about.”

“I know, I just… I want to stay here with you for as long as I can. That might sound cliché, but I m-.” Stiles is too busy being kissed by Derek to finish his statement. He moved his hand to the back of Stiles’ head, pulling him closer. A few minutes later, he pulled away only to rest his fore head against the younger man’s.

“I have an idea.” He whispers.

“What’s that?”

“We could turn the hotel into a sort of halfway house. You know, that way supernatural people would have somewhere to go to if they needed to hide out for a few days or if they’re trying to get their life back after everything that’s happened.”

“Yes, because someone who has been on the run for the last four years wants to go stay somewhere with no heating or air conditioning, and that only has running water on a good day.” Derek says with a small laugh.

“I’m serious, I bet Deaton could help us get the hotel up and running. Somebody has to know that this place is out here, even if it is a day’s walk to the nearest town. Plus, Scott’s mom is a nurse, a good one too. Now don’t get me wrong, Lydia does a good job of patching us up, but it’d be helpful to have someone with medical training at the camp.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this, haven’t you?”

“Since very shortly after I came here, actually. I think we could pull it off if we really tried to.”

Derek grinned at his boyfriend, floored by the idea. “And what exactly do you think that we should call this place? If we get it running, that is.”

“Well, Lydia and I have the “Spark” inside of us that gives us our powers, and you, Boyd and Scott all have the teeth to go with yours. So I was thi-.”

“We call it Spark and Teeth.”

 Stiles nods at Derek, practically beaming with hope.

“I love it.” Derek tells him. He then thinks to himself: _Oh god, you wouldn’t believe how much I love you right now._

The two of them go straight to Deaton with the idea, and he willing to help in many ways. The first thing they do is track down Scott’s mom, Melissa. Less than a week later, she’s at the camp, and she hugs Scott and Stiles for what seems like an eternity. Stiles and Derek tell her about their plans, and she agrees to stay and help as well.

Not long after that, Deaton is able to pull some strings with the county judge, and the hotel thrums to life with electricity and an unending supply of running water. It’s not long after that that someone new arrives. Derek is on watch when a man with blue eyes and half of his face covered in scales comes out of the forest, walking towards the border.

He stops a few feet away from it, looking frightened. “I need somewhere to hide. Is this a place where I can do that?”

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Jackson Whittemore, a Kanima. What is this place?”

Derek gives him a gentle smile. “Welcome to Spark and Teeth, we’re here to keep people safe.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, so I should probably say something sentimental right? Alright, let's do this.
> 
> Honestly, I have loved writing this story. The idea came to me after reading another author's fic, and I said: "You know what, screw it, I'm going write something like this." And I did. I spent a majority of my time writing this listening to "The Last Five Years" musical soundtrack, it's amazing all of you should listen to it. Just as well, this story would be FILLED with mistakes if not for my great friend, prom date, and Beta Lexie. She's a real gem, I adore her. Anyways, thanks to everyone who has commented, subscribed or clicked the kudos button, it means a lot to me.
> 
> You may have noticed that I decided to turn this story into a mini-series. If you any prompts or ideas that you would like to see get done, send them my way (no porn or mpreg pleaaassseee). I'm very satisfied with how this portion of the story ended, I can't wait for y'all to see where I go with the rest of it. As always, have a great day!

**Author's Note:**

> PS: I'm still accepting prompts (no porn or mpreg pleaseeeeee) if you wanna leave me one in the comments. Thanks for reading! Have a great day :D


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